


Beneath Heavy Clouds

by MundaneMatthew



Category: Death Note, Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-15 23:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7243150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MundaneMatthew/pseuds/MundaneMatthew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone once told him that the reason stars shined only at night was because they needed the darkness, just as the darkness needed their light.<br/>The problem now was; how could he protect the light from the inevitable darkness swallowing it up?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I promise not everything I post will be B/A. Just 90%.  
> This was originally going to be a surprise birthday gift for my best friend since we're both trash and ship these two. But I found a better gift to get them so I figured I would put the fic up here instead of letting it collect dust!
> 
> A few quick notes:  
> The A in this fic is my rendition and portrayal of him via rping. There's almost nothing to go on for him so he's a pretty blank slate.   
> H/T/C are characters that belong collectively to my friend and I. They will be written as we rp them. You can consider them OC if you want.
> 
> Alright, now that that's done, read on and let me know what you think!  
> \- Matt

Beyond Birthday had never had it easy, just a bit better than some others. He dealt with loss and solitude; abandonment and heartache; emotions a child shouldn't experience. Especially at the hands of their own blood. He had always been a strong person though, even as a child. Those years still haunted him sometimes, but he had found ways to cope. When A first arrived it only took B one moment to decide that he would overcome any of his own problems- just as long as it meant he could keep those brown eyes from overflowing with sorrow ever again. There was such pain in his face and B didn't want to see it. He didn't want to watch it break down and destroy the boy like it had done to so many others in his life. Alternative had survived an early run in with death more times than Beyond could count. When he finally opened up to him about what had happened, B found it hard to look at his own skeletons and feel like he had suffered at all.

The scrawny and pale six year old still had red puffy eyes from crying and there were semi-wet tears on his cheeks when he was ushered into the room by an impatient Roger. The man reminded the little child for what seemed to be the hundredth time to introduce himself with his 'proper' name. When the door closed, the boy's shoulders slumped in a meek relief. He wiped his nose with his sleeve and timidly shuffled further in. It was easy enough to tell where his side was, as Beyond's was quite a mess from an earlier experiment. So he set his bag down at the side of a bed and climbed onto it. He seemed to be producing fresh tears just sitting there.

B was a few years older and had only been at Wammy's for a short period of time but he still remembered how alone he felt the first day. Actually, he had felt alone for quite a while after too. There were no other children there and the adults didn't care to interact with him after classes were over with. That lead to him staying in his room most of the day, isolated. When he heard he was getting a roommate he was excited and nervous and over-joyed all at once. Finally there'd be someone else to talk to. He didn't mind being alone sometimes, but it got boring and tiring after a while. 

A had been timid, recoiled when B touched his shoulder and spent the first night crying softly with his knees to his chest, lying in the fetal position. The morning after he finally spoke without stammering or a voice crack from his worn out throat after crying so long. He was quiet and his voice felt smaller than he was; almost like it belonged to a mouse. 

B had taken a moment's pause before they left to go to class, quite literally stopping in front of A to halt him too. He turned to face his new friend and elegantly rendered off a painfully awful series of puns.   
A's laugh was pure and lovely, even when it dribbled off into a squeak as his throat and voice quit on him. It had been contagious and had B hiding snickers behind his hand. And when he took A's with his free hand, the boy didn't jerk away like he had the night before. He still looked tired and upset, but it was a little less and B considered it a victory.

He wished to be young again, before all the darkness of the world suffocated them both. Back when sneaking to the kitchen at ten to midnight was the boldest, most risky thing they could imagine themselves doing. At the same time, he was glad to be in this moment. He was older and stronger and he could live up to his personal promise to keep A safe.  
But the problem with keeping A safe was that A didn't want him to. 

Alternative was an injured fawn surrounded by predatory animals ready to rip out his throat. Beyond knew this. So did A. He begged and pleaded with B constantly. Told him to stay out of it. He could handle it on his own. It wouldn't last forever. He was fine.  
The little fawn was also a terrible liar. At least when it came to spitting them out to the other teen. It was his eyes. They always gave him away. The bronze hues rarely showed anything but misery.

It was when he saw the sorrow that made B want to be a child again. Bad puns didn't do the trick anymore. A would smile but it would never reach his eyes. The bright browns that Beyond had loved to look into for years were no longer the same. They were darker and colder and now anger had manifested in them alongside the sadness. 

The bells chimed in the distance and relieved Beyond of his trip into the past and all the what-ifs. At least for now. He silently thanked the noise, grateful for the intrusion to his self inflicted sadness.

B closed his eyes and stifled a yawn. He hadn't slept yet, but he knew he'd succumb to it sooner or later. For now he was just content to hear the soft inhales and exhales coming from Alternative; now curled up with his head on B's lap, sleeping soundly.

Some time in the night A had crossed the room and crawled into his bed. B didn't exactly recall what he'd said, but he never refused A's pleas so it didn't really matter. He had laid his head on Beyond's lap and there he fell asleep; with B's fingers combing through his silky black strands. It was sometimes the only thing that put the prodigy to sleep. An intimate exchange between the two boys that, for a while, could make the bad things go away. Something that they shared only with each other. He preferred it that way, as long as this was theirs no one could dirty or pervert it. 

He began to grow tired as he played with A's hair. Tonight he didn't need to worry about touching a bruise on his near perfect porcelain skin. They had had the past three days off. Being the top two students, A and B were well ahead of most of their peers and the teachers were running out of materials to give them to prevent boredom. Roger finally had given in and told them to take until Monday off so the teachers had time to collect more work for them. A had almost seemed devastated but B was more than happy to not go to class.  
Without A having to leave and the two being separated in different classes, A had gotten through each twenty-four hour day without a single physical attack made on him. The old bruises had nearly faded away and no fresh ones were there to mar his looks.  
And with the relentless rain pouring two days straight, the two teens had finally gotten to spend more time with one another. 

B was hopeful he could talk A into asking him for help. He was ready to give it at a moment's notice. Ready to stop those bruises from ever gracing his skin again.

He slouched a little and let his head sink into his pillows. His hand left A's hair to take one of his hands instead and the gentle squeeze in response only served to make his heart lurch. Sleep took that moment of weakness to lull him further into its clutches. He was asleep before the bells rang three chimes.

Outside it continued to rain for the third night.


	2. Dear Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was always late at night when he felt most comfortable that his mind would disassemble his life and reassemble it in jagged pieces that frightened him for days at a time and kept him awake until the wee hours. Why? Why was it when he thought things were as normal as they could ever hope for, that his mind attacked him?  
> B just wanted to fall asleep and wake to the sound of precious breaths coming and going between glistening lips. Waking to them was a bit more important to him as of late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made the deal with myself that I'd update this once a week but here we are not a week later. I'm going to try to update it frequently, even if it's not weekly.  
> I don't write or even rp regularly right now so I constantly feel rusty. Hopefully i'm doing alright. I would be ashamed to provide bad fic for my favorite trash sons.

“I’m sorry, B.”

 

The voice he supposed was meaning to sound sympathetic instead held an air of happiness, a sound that was almost foreign to his ears by now. It was strange. A voice that apologized but didn’t sound any bit upset, nor remorseful. It rasped when it repeated itself, clinging to his ears as if it wanted to comfort him the way a lover might. The apology was something familiar. He’d heard it many many times before actually. 

“A?”

The wind crawled along his skin and small bumps rose all over his arms. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and a rough shudder vibrated up his spine. When had it become so cold? 

His eyes opened slowly and with sleep-blurred vision, Beyond found himself looking out at the exterior of Wammy House. He stood, brushing dirt and leaves off his legs. He didn’t remember when or how he’d gotten out here. Maybe his sleepless nights were finally catching up to him. He’d been so focused on A’s mental state lately that he had begun to neglect himself. Still, he’d do the same if he were to go back. When A was happy, B was happy.

When they’d first kissed, B could only see A like honey; sickeningly sweet but he’d always go back for more. Even after he watched him touch his own body, eager but shy and parted those dancer’s legs with his bruised up knees, B still saw innocence in A. Lately though it had been more and more difficult to do that. The A that looked over at him was different. He had become the sun in the autumn; beautiful but lacking any warmth. 

He looked around himself, looking for him. They’d gone to bed together and though he didn’t really recall how he’d gotten himself out here, it was much more odd to not find A right there with him. 

Had the voice that called to him earlier really been A or was it a lack of sleep turning his mind into a numb void? He felt his stomach twist up into a tangled mess. 

“A!”

He quickly moved towards the front doors, heart thudding in his ears with each footstep, almost like it was impatient. Scared even.  
He had reached out a shaking hand for the doorknob when something wet fell onto his skin from just overhead. It was rain he told himself and he pulled the door open while he attempted to put it out of his mind. Only then the next one stained its way down his cheek and he was struck with the unmistakeable taste of iron- of blood.  
He felt that lump in his throat again, this time impossible to swallow and instead choking him. Slowly he let his hand fall to his side. The drops had started to increase but fear froze him from doing anything for too many agonizing seconds. When he broke through the fear, B looked up above him as the drops turned into streams and then a pour, nearly blinding him. It didn’t blind him enough to block out the shadowed figure that hung from a roughly crafted noose. It swayed back and forth, its slit wrists the cause of the warm horrifying rain.  
Beyond didn’t need to see it clearly to know who was up there. He’d dreamt it over and over again for the past few weeks, but it didn’t stop him from screaming. It didn’t stop him from frantically trying to pull Alternate’s body down and it certainly didn’t stop him from violently jerking awake with tears in his eyes and cold sweat plastering his hair to his skin.

Beyond wiped his face on his jumper sleeve, for a moment afraid that if he didn’t he’d open his eyes and the red would be real and so would the rest of the awful dream.  
His heart did not yield in its rampage within his chest and it actually hurt as he combed A’s hair with trembling fingers. He looked down at him, almost certain that some of his tears would fall from his chin and hit the boy’s face.  
B touched his forehead and traced a path through A’s freckled nose and cheeks until his hand had gone along his jaw and back up to pet his hair.  
His eyes drifted to the small clock on the nightstand by his bed. It was nearly six-thirty in the morning. Soon they would have to wake, prepare for classes and begin another gruelling day. B would like to stay there if he had a chance. Honestly, if he could convince A to skip, he would be just fine staying like this all day. He wanted to play with A’s hair and kiss his cream colored skin and watch his chest rise and fall as he took in small breaths. Couldn’t he place the frail boy in a bubble and never let the calloused and rough hands of the world sully him? Or was it too late for that. Maybe he just had to figure out how to salvage what was left of Alisx.  
If things kept going like they were now, B wasn’t sure how much there would be to save. It just felt so overwhelming, such a daunting task. Every day he felt his grip on A slipping and faltering.

There was no longer an honest talk between them. He knew A was hiding things. Leaving certain details out when he did talk. It felt like a betrayal but B understood A’s reasoning for doing it. They were both so desperate to protect one another.  
B wanted to bloody his own knuckles the same way A’s tormentors did their own, but he didn’t want to cause any further stress on the other boy. Likewise, A wanted to spare B of mental and emotional exhaustion so he stayed quiet about the real pain. They would be lucky to survive the inevitable collision their intentions were to have.  
It was all just a matter of time now. Sooner or later one of them would stray across the line and the end result was impossible to predict.

The worst about it was that they both knew that they were catalysts to one another. They knew and there was just nothing they could do about it.

The bells had run four times before B drifted back to the present and clawed out from his mountain of thoughts for a little while. The sun was rising, lighting the sky in shades of pink orange and red that quickly began to swallow up the black and deep blues from the night.

Up with the sun’s small beginnings was A. He was still blinking sleep away from his long lashes when B looked down. At least he wouldn’t need to wake him. He always felt bad for doing it. A needed every second of the little sleep he got.

“What were you thinking about?” A mumbled past B’s lips when he leaned down to greet him. “You had that look on your face. The one where you seem here but.. not here.”

“Just a bad dream, that’s all. I’m ok now.” B gave him a partial truth. It felt better than full on lying but he still felt guilt for doing it all the same. “Did you sleep well? You can have the first shower if you want.”

A sat up slowly, though he still remained slouched partly against B. His first few movements were sluggish as his body fought off his sleep. He so rarely got this many hours that his body always seemed to have trouble recovering from it, almost like it made him ill.  
Once he moved away from B and slid his legs over the side of the bed he appeared to be a little more collected. He stood and stretched his thin arms up over his head- igniting a shudder in B when dozens of pops and cracks from the bones within A’s slender frame echoed through the room, protesting the boy’s decision to leave bed.

“Yeah.” He answered the first question but delayed on the offer. 

B knew why. It wasn’t hard to miss the nasty words that were flung at A. To some in the house there was nothing A could do right, nothing he could do that would spare him the hatred so many of them held for him. His rank gave him such treatment. Roger said that it was just the competitiveness in the others, but he really had no idea how much all of them wanted that chance. They were willing to go against one another in areas far outside of academics. They turned the fight physical on any of the top students. He was too scrawny, too short, too feminine, too weak. Weakness simply wasn’t tolerated in Wammy House. 

A had been ill from birth and the stress from the successor program would just manifest itself as a symptom of things he already struggled with. Every now and then A would shut down and lose to hysteria. He was sick- too sick- he needed to be stronger, but stronger wasn’t an option for him and it left him hopeless. He could hardly look at himself in the mirror and all the compliments in the world from B were just words in the wind and couldn’t change it. Not while they lived here and had the burdens even grown men could never handle. All he could do to help was offer him first shower every morning so he could take as long as he needed to undress and step under the water. Some days were better than others and B tended to count only the good ones, lest he suffocate under the cold and heavy negativity. There were just too many days like that.

“Go on. I’ll sit outside the door and keep you company.” B urged A forward with a light nudge at the small of his back. “I’ll tell you some new riddles and jokes I read last week during study hall.”

A took three steps forward and stopped, looking back over his shoulder at B. “You were reading riddles and jokes when you were supposed to be studying? B..”

B waved him off and bumped him forward another few steps. “I think it’ll be important to know good riddles should I succeed L.” He said, giving a poor attempt at excusing his laziness in his schooling. 

He seemed to have won the argument and A disappeared into the bathroom. As he slid down the door with his back to the wood, B heard A sigh shortly before the sound of clothing hitting the floor. That too became drowned out when the shower was turned on and hot water beat against the cast iron. This time there was no click of the lock sliding into place like it would most times. B chose to see it as a sign today would turn out to be at least alright.

B brought his legs to his chest and began to draw invisible circles in his knees. The dream- the nightmare he had had was drifting around in the back of his mind still. He almost wanted to believe that he could feel the warm blood rain hitting his skin again as he thought of it. 

“B?”

He blinked and leaned his head back against the bathroom door.  
“Yeah?”

“You going to tell me one of your jokes now?”

“Alright. Here’s one of my favorites from the book. What kind of bear would make the best burglar?”

“I dunno. What?”

“A panda bear. Because it eats shoots and leaves.”

It was quiet aside from the shower for a few moments, but he soon heard it; silky laughter at an octave he was sure didn’t normally come from a human being. There was something pure about the way A laughed. He could fake a smile and put on a pleasant personality, but it was difficult to fake a laugh and be convincing. Sometimes, most days, hearing him laugh was the only way B knew A was still there.

Knowing that made it easier to close his eyes and not see a swaying body with blood decorating porcelain skin. Just a little bit.


End file.
